Natasha
by tlep
Summary: A one shot story written for a friend based on the character she created.


This is a one shot scene written for a friend who is also a big fan of "The Unit." She created a brief bio for the Natasha character.

Natasha accepted a glass of champagne from the waiter circulating with a tray. She sipped the bubbly liquid slowly, her eyes thoroughly scanning the occupants of the room, analyzing them to determine if they were a risk. Some she could identify – the South African agent might as well have advertised his presence with a sash across his chest, other were easy to dismiss, but it was the ones she couldn't identify that she worried most about. She found herself locking eyes with one of the tuxedo clad guests. Even across the room, she could feel the penetrating stare of his blue eyes. He didn't try to hide his interest in her as his eyes started at her face then slowly worked their way down to her toes and back to her face – with brief pauses on areas of her body a man was supposed to take interest in. She boldly held his gaze for a long moment deducing this man definitely presented a danger

Master Sergeant Mack Gerhardt ignored the waiter's offer of champagne, still watching the woman across the room. Her highlighted dark blonde hair fell past her shoulders, the wispy bangs helped conceal the movement of her teal green eyes but Mack was trained to detect the slightest movement. The clingy emerald dress seemed designed to draw attention – slits halfway up her thighs showed the curves of her shapely legs, the neckline showing enough cleavage to tease, yet overwork a man's imagination as to what lie beneath the fabric. They had intercepted a communiqué that the elusive Natasha would be here and he felt certain that this woman was her. He based it solely on the way she studied everyone in the room as no pictures of her existed and the descriptions given by those who had "seen" her varied so greatly that the only consistency was her gender.

The man's scrutiny of her didn't worry Natasha. She was a professional. Natasha had never failed at a mission, she couldn't afford to; she'd learned that from experience. In her previous life she had failed, actually she'd sacrificed herself to allow her partner to escape. But no one came to rescue her then and it had been a painful lesson, for which she still bore the scars. Scars no one could see. She'd recreated herself after she escaped. Natasha hadn't been born, she'd been created. She worked for herself now no longer owing allegiance to a country or government. She may not approve of what the North Koreans wanted from her but they were paying her well for this assignment. They wouldn't approve of what she would do with their money, but then they'd never know. She watched as he made his way purposefully past the other guests attending the embassy party until he arrived at her side.

"May I have this dance," the man asked her in flawless Italian. The way the words rolled off his tongue sent a ripple of sexual desire through Natasha that she could not suppress.

"No, thank you," she said, diverting her gaze in a dismissive manner.

Yet his hand was under her elbow guiding her the few steps to the dance floor where he took her in his arms. She could have sworn she'd said no. Had her private thoughts betrayed her? Had she really said yes? Surely the man understood the word no.

He began to lead her expertly across the dance floor. "You look surprised," he commented.

"I didn't take you to be a dancer."

"I'm not. I just know how." Above her head, Mack cut his eyes in Jonas' direction, picking up his signal.

His comment brought a chuckle to Natasha's lips. Pointedly scanning the room again before bringing her focus back on Mack, she noted the scar across his left cheek. She raised their joined handed to run the tip of her perfectly French manicured nail across the scar. "How did you get this scar?"

"A bar fight."

"Really?" She didn't believe it for a minute. It only confirmed what she already suspected about him. He might think he was distracting her or could keep her from the mission but he'd soon learn he'd underestimated her. Perhaps one day she could lure him away from the job he did, the one he did because of the noble purpose and they could work together. The thought held delicious possibilities.

"Thought you should know the North Koreans lied to you." The words were spoken in English with a Southern drawl now. She hadn't noticed that in caressing her wrist, he now had his finger on her pulse point. The jump in her pulse rate was more telling to him than if her head as jerked up at the comment.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said coyly.

"Of course you don't," he said smoothly with a smile that could make an ordinary woman weak in the knees.

The song ended and Natasha removed her hand from his well defined bicep in an effort to take her leave. Instead he pulled her closer as the music transitioned to a slower love song.

"The schematics you're after aren't for defense missiles. They're for missiles capable of delivering nuclear or biological weapons. Weapons of war. Of mass destruction that can be used on innocent civilians."

"Like I said, I have no idea --"

The lights went out and the room was suddenly engulfed in absolute darkness. Someone was making their move and Natasha reacted immediately to extract herself from Mack's arms. His lips descended just as immediately to her mouth. He captured her mouth in an almost brutal kiss, silencing her and momentarily making her forget the urgent need to proceed with her mission.

The kiss left her feeling weak. She felt his arms supporting her. When he finally broke the kiss, her head lolled back. The room seemed to be spinning and she couldn't keep her eyes open or was it the darkness?

When Natasha opened her eyes again, the lights were back on. She found it highly discomforting that people were hovering over her. Shaking her head in attempt to clear her thoughts of the kiss, it dawned on her that she felt drugged and ruefully realized just how accurate that assumption was. Had it been a dream she wondered for a brief moment. Unsure how long she'd been unconscious, she surveyed the room looking for Mack and mentally noting who had taken their leave during the staged blackout.

She swore silently to herself at knowing she had been bested. Recalling Mack's words though, she almost felt a sense of relief. Maybe this once she could live with failing. She hated to lose out on the money especially with what she had planned to do with it. But she'd take another assignment soon and be sure to be more thorough in finding out the true nature of the mission. It angered her that she'd been lied to and she'd be sure the North Korean official would pay for that.

Mack rendezvoused with the rest of the team at the Zodiac boat hidden near the river bank. Team leader Jonas Blane acknowledged his arrival.

"Smooth work, Dirt Diver. How'd you know it was her?"

"Powers of observation. You got the package?"

"Of course. If North Korea wants defense missiles, they'll have to try another avenue."


End file.
